HetaOni: Mirror Image
by MirrorsSurroundMe
Summary: I'M SO SORRY.  I WROTE THIS AT 2 AM AND IT TOOK ME LIKE 2 HOURS I'M SO SORRY.  I DON'T MEAN TO MAKE ANY OF YOU CRY. REALLY.  THIS IS A ONE SHOT.  TT.TT  THERE'S SOME MAJOR ANGST HERE...AND DEATH...


_"The only thing I can remember vividly,"  
>"To the point I can't breathe,"<br>"Is when we first came here."_

I was stuck looking at a mirror image in this place.  
>But it was never me on the other side.<p>

It was the other, me, the me who makes it out with everyone. Out of this hellhole.

I always see him, smiling and laughing, yet still beaten up. He waves to me, teasing me with his success. The success that I wasn't able to achieve. Then, he notices all of the damage strewn around me, the bodies. Limp, lifeless. The tears of agony streaming down my face. The small journal with my name on it, clutched tightly to my chest. And the grey alien behind me. On the other side, they are all frowning in disgust. They are ashamed of me, and they slowly fade away. Disappear into the misty background. I... I could be him. Oh, the envy.

**But I failed again.**

The unbreathing figures of those that I cared so much about, my friends, littered the floor surrounding my feet. I had watched them all die, one by one, at the hands of the enemy. I wasn't able to do anything about it. They told me they had to keep me from harm, after I waved my white flag around. Over and over, time after time. Would this nightmare ever end? Honestly, I did try! With all of my might, I relentlessly restarted the clock for them! It never came out like I wanted it to. I've never witnessed so much death in my life. I feel broken.

But someone always got hurt! One slip, and all of my plans would come crashing down, dammit! I just...I just want to scream at the top of my lungs! I was always left alone; it's not how it's meant to be! I hate being alone, I hate it! I can't let it happen this time, I tell myself, not this time! What's up with this, this, living hell! It makes me sick, seeing the blood spilled on the floor. It felt like a dream, a sea of the unawakening passing I had seen. I just want to escape, from all of it...

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

I protected them all I could, but it never worked. Each time, new blood would stain my hands, whether it be my own or theirs, or someone else's. It was just no use. Nothing was ever right, this just didn't make sense. One day I will burn this place to the ground, and I will grin in delight, knowing that not only I have gotten my vengeance, but also that I have protected others from this fate. The fate of being trapped in the time loops, to save all, but never being able to save them all.

I won't give up, though nor will the enemy. The Thing, or Things, are getting stronger, I'm worried. Will we be able to defeat him, or will another have to die at the mercy of them, only for me to rewind and see it happen again? Who will the next victim be? Which of us will suffer? Its hunger never goes away or creeps back; it is forever craving death, flesh, and blood. The eyes bore into you, black and expressionless. It must have no soul. I have nightmares all the time, and I now will for the rest of my life.

I ponder on. If-no, **when**-we get out, what do we do? Will life just go on as if nothing happened? That isn't possible. Never. It will always be different, and hard to adjust to not having a constant knowing that they might be waiting just around the corner. About to strike at you. I cannot go to Mr. Austria's house again, with the piano, I have seen so many have died on. America's alien friend, Tony, I can no longer bear to look at him and the similarities in appearance to the Things. A sketchbook now looks like the journal I write in to reverse, as does a Bible. No longer can any room I enter have white furniture; I can also never be left alone to roam. Any clock haunts me. A mirror makes me run off.

Worst of all is the color red. The sweet, crimson liquid that pours through your veins. Tomatoes, cupcakes, beloved pasta sauce, strawberries, roses, my own flag. Rosso, the beholder of death. I shout in terror if I see it. The splotches line my very fabric of life. And the floor that others have walked on in this mansion, it is smeared everywhere. Everywhere...It's...Too much. I cannot view it. I rock back and forth in a fetal position, crying my heart out. When I turn back to that mirror, the other me is scowling. He does not like it.

For you see, I am a coward. I cannot do this much longer, I am growing weak. Day by day, or however time is in this messed up prison. I feel more tired. Surely I'm dying. Seemingly I'm no longer fearful of death. My own, at least. I've experienced it so many times...I pray to God that every time will be the last. I'm not being heard, then. Flashes of the previous loops always swirl around me before I enter a new one; I try to figure out what will happen in the forthcoming. I think it should be me...Who dies.

The Mirror Me is now smirking, relishing in the fact that I can't survive, that I'm deteriorating. He finds it humorous that I am unable to be like him and break away like him. But I will one day. I must keep trying, no matter what the cost. Even if I must sacrifice my own meaningless life, or pasta forever. I will give up anything in the world to see my friend's happy faces again, alive. Even for just a small glimpse, for a mere moment. The ones I hold so dear to me...

Truly, I have lost count on how many times I've been here. Was it four? Wait...ten. No, that's not correct...six? Seven, possibly?...For all I know, it could be two thousand! I don't have a clue. Each loop was pointless, someone had moved on from this world. This was not a fair game, in my opinion. Rue the day we stumbled our feet to the abandonment on the top of the hill. Useless rumors, we had all said. Now we, or I, have the proof that they were and are a fact. A fatal fact.

This time **WILL** be different. I **WILL** make sure we are all safe. Me too. Mirror me will have a taste of his own ghastly medicine. At this point, I'm unstoppable. I have a feeling it will be ok, once and for all. We must hold on to hope, to have it in our grasp. Even if it looks out of reach and there is little of it left, we keep it within. I'll never stop trying, not in a million years. Those that I love on the outside will hug me, and make me warm. We **WILL, WE WILL** see the light of day again!

"...Right, Holy Rome?"

_"To the me who lives at some point in time and isn't alone..._

_Once again, I made some mistakes, and also some progress._

_Meanwhile, I finally, but slowly, began to learn to rely on my friends._

_I was constantly afraid everyone would blame me for dragging us into this, and_

_That they would hate me, or be appalled at me, or get mad at me and leave me..._

_But then I was told I had the wrong idea._

_Why didn't you rely on your friends sooner?_

_What are friends for?"_

-Italy Veneziano


End file.
